Maplestory : Heroes
by Tayuke
Summary: We all know the story of the Heroes of the Maple World; how they worked together to defeat the Black Mage. But how much do you really know them? This is a retelling of the beginnings of our heroes: how they were born and how they came to be. Disclaimer: I wish I owned Maplestory, but I don't.
1. Prolouge

The Mapler reached the cave after weeks of arduous climbing. A good thing too- the Mapler was running low on potions. The mountain was steep and filled with high-leveled monsters, which were practically jumping into his path every 5 seconds as if to dissuade him from going further. But nothing would stop him from reaching his goal- his urge was too strong. The Forces form within the cave seemed to be calling him, guiding him to his destination- the monsters fell with a twitch of his fingers, or a swing of his sword; he was much stronger than them.

The cave was dark and damp- what else was to be expected? But the Mapler knew something that others did not- something the Forces told him. The Mapler made his way to the back wall of the cave; it wasn't very big, probably about 10 feet in length, 5 in width. The Mapler brushed away the stray pebbles and dirt on the ground 'till he found what he was looking for. The Oracle's Seal.

The Mapler smiled. After years of searching, he finally found it. The insignia was small, and would not be noticed unless he was specifically looking for it. An eye, with a rune carved in place of the iris. The rune meant _Time_, the Mapler remembered.

The Mapler placed his palm on the seal. On it was tattooed a rune; it resembled a door with the rune _Future_ inside it. _The Future beckons the traveler_, the Mapler thought it meant, as he did not know the intended meaning. It was written by the Forces- another sign that he was chosen.

As soon as the two seals touched, a golden ring of light surrounded the Mapler. He was calm- he had been expecting this after all. The Forces were kind to him; They kept him informed. The Mapler heard a sound of rocks grinding apart- like a machine that hasn't been used for centuries. That comparison was quite accurate, as well.

After several moments, a hidden window opened up in the cave wall. The Mapler got up and walked to it. Inside the window was a small chest, like the ones used to store women's jewelry. The Mapler removed it from the hole in the wall and placed it on the ground. He retrieved a key from his pouch; it bared The Oracle's Seal as well. He fitted the key into the lock on the chest and clicked it open.

The Mapler opened the lid and peered inside. A rolled-up parchment and a book. How insignificant they looked, but the Mapler knew that these had the power to overwrite so much evil in the Maple World.

The Mapler unrolled the parchment. He had to be very careful; the paper was brittle and crumbled easily in his fingers. It would be most unfortunate if what he had been searching for for years were to be destroyed before he had a chance to finish it.

_I pray that this reaches Lightness' hands, should this book fall into the Darkness' clutch, the Maple World we have worked so hard to save will be lost. _The writing was that of a women's, though her hand was trembling as wrote these words.

_Whoever that has found this, I beg of you to use this knowledge for good. Inside are written the runes of _Rinne, _powerful runes used in the Battle of the Black Mage. I have used the last of my magic to preserve these runes, as the seal we have placed on the Black Mage is not permanent. He _will_ rise again._

_We were too weak, we couldn't defeat him. Our only choice was to seal him away. When he resurrects, we can only hope that the future generations are powerful enough to stop him. You are the Maple World's only hope. Use the knowledge wisely, reader._

At the bottom of the parchment was a signature the Mapler had known so well. The Oracle's Seal.

-{Author's Notes}-

Hello! Another story! This time in third person!

You've probably already guessed what this story is about. If you're reading this, I'm assuming that you know the basic storyline of Maplestory's past, 'cuz there's going to be spoilers. Now, I just want to clear up some things I will be changing in the course of this story. Just so you know what you're getting into.

I'm introducing an OC. The Oracle… She's just going to be the one to tie up any loose ends after the Black Mage battle… Nexon didn't make it very clear. She's not going to have a very big role during the course of the story, only after it.

The final battle is not going to be at the Temple of Time. In my opinion, it wasn't 'epic' enough. So yeah.

There are going to be pirates. I know that they weren't introduced 'till much later in game development, but in this time range, the pirates just came to the Maple World, but haven't been introduced as a class yet. I think that's legitimate.

I think that's it… though I may decide to include other changes as well…

I've just finished Stephan King's "The Gunslinger", so that's probably the reason why the Mapler is soo much like Roland… Hehe….

Other chapters will be longer than this, I promise.

Thanks for reading!

-Tayuke


	2. Chapter 1: The Warrior's Past

The Mapler picked up the book. It was a thick, leather bound book that must have once been extremely prestigious; used by the higher ranks of society. However, time had eaten away at the book; the leather was peeling and the pages were yellowed with age. At least the words were still legible. The book was locked shut; not physically but magically. The Mapler was puzzled. There was no keyhole for it. Instead, there was just an image of a key. How do you open that up?

On its cover were five golden lockets, though the gold had dulled over the years. They were engraved with runes; _Warrior, Magician, Bowman, Thief, Fallen. _They were arranged in a pentagon shape, surrounding the Ereve insignia. The Mapler removed the _Warrior_ locket from the book. His fingers traced the rune. It was in olden tongue, different from the language used present day.

He opened the locket. He gasped as the magical rune on the locket glowed orange, and energy stored in the locket was released all at once; it encircled him, the lights forming shapes before his eyes.

* * *

-{**ARAN**}—

* * *

"_Ushiki! Ushiki! _You're back!" a young girl with snow-white hair and a dark complexion was bouncing on the balls of her feet as an older boy with the same features walked through the door.

"Samus-_uwa_, how was your trip?" a woman, presumably their mother, said as she pulled her son into an embrace.

The boy, Samus, dropped his heavy pack onto the floor. "The hunt went well. _Upa _and the _sameru_ have gone ahead to the square. They're getting ready to distribute the food. _Upa_ sent me to get you," the teenage boy replied.

"What are we waiting for? Let's go!" the little girl cried out, a smile plastered on her face.

"Of course, Aran-_ashi. _Let's go _Ama_," Samus said, walking out of the tent.

* * *

"I hate the snow. It was snowing all the time during the trip. Why couldn't _Yllr _choose a better time to make it snow?" Samus complained, as the family trudged through the ankle-high snow.

"_Ama_ said that the Gods don't work that way. Besides, I like the snow," Aran told her brother, still looking cheerful.

"You're right _awanya_. The God _Yllr_ can't decide when to make it snow. Snowing is mild and gentle - it is an act of nature. _Yllr_ brings forth blizzards and snowstorms. You're fortunate that He didn't disrupt your trip," their mother stated. She picked up her daughter. "I like the snow too, Aran-_awa_. I even named you after the snow," the mother smiled.

"Really?" Aran asked, eyes wide and curious.

Her mother nodded. "Aran. A- from _ashiki _ and –ran from _ranumi._ Your name means 'Sister of the Snow'."

"What does _ushiki_'s name mean?" Aran cocked her head to one side questioningly.

Her mother chuckled at her daughter's curiosity. "'Samus' means 'Strong Wolf'; Sam- from _samer , _and –us from _ustune,_' she replied.

Aran's eyes sparkled. "Wow… _Ushiki_, you're a wolf!"

Samus groaned. "Yeah, yeah… We're here."

The dirt road they were walking had opened up into a court yard. In the middle were several muscled men using sharp knives to saw off meat from a large cow- it was the size of a small car, at least. This would provide the tribe with enough meat to last several weeks.

Surrounding the men, families were lining up to receive their rations. Aran leapt from her mother's arms and ran towards to crowd. "Tara! Tara," she called out, and another young girl turned to face the voice calling her name. She smiled as she saw her friend. "Aran!" she laughed.

No sooner had she said that, a loud shriek came from the woods. The cry was wild and full of rage; it was a cry of an animal.

"RUN!" someone shouted, and panic ensued. Aran could see the trees in the distance being trampled as the animal made its way toward the camp. It was coming closer, and closer. Women and children were running for cover in the woods, the men readying their weapons and armor. The animal was huge, and it was almost here.

Aran felt Tara tugging at her arm, begging her to run. Aran was torn; where is _Ama? Upa? Ushiki?_ She felt tears pricking at her eyes. _What do I do?_ She asked herself. Then the animal reached the camp.

It was a lyka, an intimidating being; at least 15 feet tall, with blue fur and red, bloodshot eyes. It scanned the area and gave out a bloodthirsty cry, bringing its head up menacingly. Its sharp, black horns emerged threateningly from beneath its wild, white mane that was stained with the blood of who-knows-what. It dug its front hoof in the ground, getting ready to charge.

The terrifying sight broke Aran's paralysis. She dragged a crying Tara behind a pile of logs for cover. Aran peeked from the corner at the lyka and the _sameru_, who were engaged in battle.

He lyka charged through the middle of the formation; mostly as a warning shot, seeing that the men had enough time to jump away. One man, who wore a tribal headband which marked him as the leader, jumped onto the lyka's back as it headed away from him.

"_Upa_…" Aran whispered, recognizing her father. Said father was now hacking away at the neck of the lyka with his axe. The _sameru _sent their wolves upon the lyka, the white hounds using their razor sharp teeth and claws to attack the lyka's stumpy feet. Red blood bloomed from the ground, though it was hard to tell whose blood it was; the lyka was defending itself very well.

With a loud roar of triumph, the lyka crushed one of the hounds beneath its huge hoof as it mauled another with its horns. It barely seemed to notice Aran's father upon its back; though it's not like it had the time to, dealing with the wolves and the other _sameru_.

One of the _sameru_ had used his spear to anchor the lyka to the ground. He did this by stabbing the spear into the earth through the ring on the lyka's nose. Now, the lyka could barely move, let alone defend itself from the attacks coming from all directions. Then the golden runes on the lyka's horns began to glow.

Aran sensed that something was wrong. She had always had this little intuition, that little nagging feeling that warned her when something bad was going to happen. Her parents had considered it a blessing, seeing that it had saved several villagers when she was younger. This time though, it felt like acid - eating her insides away. And she could do nothing about it.

"_UPA_! LOOK OUT!" Aran screamed, tears flowing freely. Her father met her eyes and gazed at her one last time.

The lyka's eyes glowed with magic. It roared, though this time it sounded different. Instead of a physical voice, the lyka was yelling out with its soul. The sound reverberated through everyone's mind, echoing until it reached as far as Elin Forest.

Runes drawn with pure mana formed it the air above it, before it exploded in a light show of raw energy and fire, absolutely incinerating anything within ten feet of it. The only thing left standing was the lyka.

Aran screamed in agony as she ran towards the lyka. That spell had left it drained, though now there was no one left to finish it off. Aran started to throw rocks from the ground at it. Looks like this'll have to do.

The lyka stumbled as it tried to take a step, annoyed but not hurt by the enraged Aran. However, it decided not to attack her as it trudged back towards the woods. Then one of the rocks Aran had thrown pierced its left eye, leaving it permanently blinded. The lyka winced, but made no attempt to defend itself, having spent all of its strength already.

Aran felt a pair of arms hold her back from chasing the lyka into the woods. "_A-ashiki_, stop…" Samus said, still shocked from the scene.

"NO! It killed _upa_! _UPA_!" Aran kicked and screamed. Samus pulled his sister into a hug. Then he cried too.

* * *

Aran sat in her mother's lap as she rocked back and forth. Neither of them said anything for a long time.

"_Ama,_ can you tell me a story?" Aran said almost expressionlessly, her previously cheery demeanor replaced with that of a dull, boring girl.

It was their little tradition; Aran would sit with her every night before bed. She just lost her father; she didn't want to lose this as well. Her mother would tell her about the wondrous feats of their ancestors. And so she did again today.

* * *

Once, there was a traveler. He would explore all the corners of the Maple World; from Orbis to Leafre; from Mu Lung to Victoria. Because of his journeys, he was very wise. People would come and consult him for help.

This made him very popular wherever he went; he never had to worry about a place to stay, or food to eat – villagers would always offer to help him out because he had helped them. However, he did not always enjoy this; people would always come to him for help, but he would have no one to confide into. He had all these people who depended on him, but he barely knew them. He hated it when he could never have a casual conversation with someone.

One day, he trekked the Nihal Desert to find and study the newly-discovered Pyramids. He somewhat enjoyed the Nihal Desert; it was unpopulated due to the harsh weather, thus, no one was there to bother him. He was relaxed in the silence; all he could hear was the _whoosh _of the winds. He brought out his compass and checked his map. He should be reaching the Pyramids in about two days.

Five days later, the traveler was getting worried. He had yet to reach the Pyramids, nor get a glimpse of it. Where did he go wrong? He never got lost before. The Nihal Desert was extensive; it was easy to get lost. Not to mention extremely deadly too.

Days turned to weeks. The traveler had finished the last of his food and water. He trudged up the sand dune and was beginning to give up. Then he saw something other than sand and felt a glimmer of hope.

There was a small hut sitting in the middle of nowhere. The traveler used the last of his strength to push himself towards to hut for help. He fainted at the door step of the hut.

When he woke up, he found himself on a lumpy, hard bed in the hut. An old man was sitting in the corner. "The sandlouse awakes," the old man said. "Who are you?" he asked. The traveler told him. "I know no one of such status," The old man said after thinking a while. "This has been my home for the past thirty years."

"What were you doing here, to such disturb an elderly man's peace, pray tell?" he questioned.

And so the traveler told him his story, and his current circumstances. "I barely have enough food to feed myself, but let us pray to _Foriph _that your arrival is a blessing," the old man said, after the traveler was done.

The old man agreed to let the traveler stay until he had regained his strength. For once, the traveler was able to talk to someone as his equal, instead of him being superior. He had always been a humble man – he didn't like the superiority. They talked about all sorts of trivial things – himself, the weather, the Maple World – and the traveler enjoyed it. He had a friend.

There were a few suspicious things about the old man though; every time the traveler attempted to get him to talk about himself or his past, the old man would change the subject. Also, every day at dawn and dusk, the old man would go out of the house for about an hour before returning. The traveler had no idea where.

He didn't pry; he respected the old man's privacy. But sometimes, curiosity can get the better of you.

After a few days, when the traveler had already regained his strength, he decided to sneak out and follow the old man when he left at dusk. He kept himself hidden well, as the old man did not notice him at all. The old man stopped in the middle of nowhere, not very far from his hut. He muttered a few words, and a hold appeared in the ground. He walked down the steps, and the traveler followed him.

At the bottom was a dark room. The traveler gasped, but quickly bit his tongue. Too late, the old man turned to face him. The room was filled with runes, but at one glance, the traveler could tell these where not normal runes. It was black magic; the old man was a practitioner of forbidden arts. The penalty for using black magic was death.

"So know you know…" the old man said gravely.

The traveler was shocked. His friend was evil, a servant of darkness. It was his job to purge the darkness from the Maple World. His hands were trembling as he reached for his knife…

* * *

"That's a sad story _Ama_…" Aran said, interrupting her mother's train of thought. Tears leaked from the corner of her mother's eyes, though Aran did not know why. "Are you okay?" Aran asked.

Her mother choked back a sob. "I-I'm s-sorry, Aran-_awa_… I'm sorry…"

* * *

Samus felt that something was off as soon as he came back home. "_Ama_!" he called out. No response. "_Ama_, where are you?" panic welled in him. He found Aran deeply asleep, covered in blankets. Beside her, was a note. Samus slumped to the floor as he read it. "Oh God, no…" he cursed.

* * *

"Aran-_ashi_, how are you today?" Samus said as he knelt down beside Aran's bed. He wore a tribal headband, similar to that of his father's.

The girl in question just sat there, eyes vacant, staring at nothing in particular. She had been this way since her mother passed, which was almost a week ago.

Samus squeezed his sister's hand. "It's alright, _ashiki_. I'll be here for you," Samus said, his voice cracking at the last word.

"I'll protect you, _ashiki_. I won't let anything hurt you," he promised, tears streaming down his face.

* * *

**Aran, daughter of Teforre, grew up in the tribe of Reenu. Orphaned at a young age, her brother, Samus, brought her up on his own. At the age of 17, she made a choice that would alter the history of the Maple World.**

* * *

Aran grew up to be a startling beauty. She had let her hair grow long, which she then tied into a ponytail that reached past her waist. Her dark skin had taken on a colour similar to milk chocolate, accentuating her lean figure. Her eyes were a shocking ice blue.

Despite an appearance that would make any man swoon for her, nobody has yet to ask for her hand in marriage. It wasn't surprising, though. It is doubtful that any man would want a wife that could break his neck. Aran had broken many already.

Her metamorphosis had brought about more changes than just her appearance; Aran had a temper that the Gods wouldn't mess with. Much less a fellow villager.

On that day, Aran was making her rounds through the woods surrounding the encampment. She'd always had an urge to punch something whenever she got pissed off (which was very often), so Samus had ordered her to go cool off by scaring of the monsters instead of beating the crap out of the poor guy who glimpsed at her breasts for far too long. It was killing two mushrooms with one swing of a sword; Aran stopped being violent to people, and the camp was safe from monster attacks.

So right before it happened, Aran was up to her elbows in slime goo. The unfortunate herd was just passing by through the woods, not planning to even go near the camp but it was still too close in Aran's book.

She swung her glaive through the soft, gooey body of the slime, killing it instantly. She did so twice more and two other slimes exploded into nothingness. Then, she used the momentum to carry herself forward, channeling the accumulated manna to the tip of her glaive. She swung it in a downward arc, expelling the mana as soon as the point touched the slime. Instantly, the force of the mana destroyed the last cluster of slimes. Final Charge was an epic skill.

Aran sighed in weariness as she used the shaft of her glaive to push herself up. Even for a level-68, killing a herd of slimes took a lot out of someone. Especially the stronger blue ones (a.k.a bubblings, but they haven't been named yet) that were about level-70. She was about to continue along her route when she heard a rustling in the bushes behind her.

Her warrior's instinct kicked in as she adjusted her glaive, both hands on the shaft, spaced about a shoulders-width apart in a battle stance. She tightened her grip and strained her eyes, looking out for the creature that made the sound.

_Thud_

A tree to her right shook, and fell over with a loud _CRASH!_ as something large and heavy crashed into it. Leaves fluttered down calmly, oblivious that their host was destroyed. The large and heavy thing grunted, and shook the leaves from its back. It had a white mane and blur fur-

A lyka.

Aran internally groaned at the memory. She remembered every detail of it; it haunted her every waking minute and her sleepless nights. The lyka turned to face her, and Aran got a clear look of its face.

It was blind in its left eye.

"You…" Aran said, barely in a whisper, as her mind reeled back towards the day it attacked the camp. She remembered its roar, its fire, its doom. She was sure that this was the beast that had caused it all, some unspoken connection between them assured her, like a hunter connects with his prey.

For the first time she could remember, she felt frightened. She was face-to-face with the monster who had plagued her thoughts for the past 10 ten years. She had dreamed of this moment; where she bathed it in its own blood, feeding it its guts. So why was she scared?

The lyka took her moment of hesitation as an opportunity to attack. It charged into a tree, sending it tumbling in Aran's direction. Her torso was pinned to the ground under the massive branches of the tree, the weight crushing her chest. As she struggled to get free, the lyka grunted and walked away.

"H-Hey! Wait!" Aran shouted, wasting her air in the process, much too surprised by the turn of events. Fortunately, she wasn't too badly hurt; just a few minor scratches. Unfortunately, she was stuck. Her efforts of using her glaive to pry the branch off resulted in failure.

"Aran!" she heard a voice call her name. Not just any voice; the voice of her brother. She grunted helplessly. Aran hated that she had to get her brother's help, but there wasn't much of a choice.

"Aran," sighed Samus. He had heard the tree crash and came to investigate, seeing that it was along Aran's route. He'd found her. He didn't like _the condition _he'd found her in. Using his war scythe as a lever, they managed to free Aran. One look at her face, and Samus knew something was wrong. She looked just like she did after her mother committed suicide.

"There was a lyka…" She started. She didn't need to finish it. They both understood.

"C'mon. Let's go back to camp," Samus said, leading her in the general direction. They quickly trekked through the woods, which opened up into the courtyard. The same courtyard in the attack 10 years ago. It had been rebuilt; there was no sign that something terrible had happened here. Aran stopped short.

"I-I have to go find it," she stammered.

"What?" Samus asked. He didn't want to believe what he heard.

"I'm going to find the lyka," Aran said, with her previous confidence. "I'll find it and kill it."

"No," Samus said.

"I have to avenge _upa_," Aran continued. "It's its fault their both dead!"

"No," said Samus, more firmly. "You saw what it did. Even if I have all the _sameru_ go after it, we don't stand a chance. You saw how easily it killed everyone!" He was losing his cool.

"We do! We're stronger now! We-"

"NO!" Samus' voice boomed through the courtyard. "ARAN, I FORBID YOU FROM DOING SOMETHING SO RECKLESS!"

"But-"

"Aran, please, don't," He quieted down. "I-I can't lose you too…"

"I'm strong enough to-"

"How do you know that?" his voice had a slightly angry edge. Geeze, this guy had mood-swings! "How do you know you're strong enough? He could rip you to shreds for all you know," Samus retorted. He turned around to face his sister, who had been walking behind him during the exchange.

He scanned Aran. If people could stare daggers, he would already be in shreds. Determination and fury burned in Aran's eyes. Her feet were spread apart in a battle stance, her glaive poised, ready to attack. "Fight me," she said. "I-if I win, then I'm going."

Aran was one of the tribe's best fighters, and probably one of the best fighters in the El Nath region. Despite her low level, her cunning and her efficiency in magic helped her win. It was very rare to find a warrior who could directly summon mana energy, instead of just channeling mana through their weapon.

The only one who surpassed her was her brother. A hundred times she's challenged him; a hundred times she's lost. Really though, you shouldn't go around picking fights with people 50 levels higher than you.

Samus took a step towards Aran. "Aran, wait," he tried to say. Then she lunged at him.

He instinctively back stepped, dodging her attacks. She swung her glaive again and again, the sharp tip flashing dangerously close to his neck each time, though none of her attacks actually connected. She knew that Samus would never let himself get hit; she had no intention of killing him.

"Aran-" Samus tried to say. She swung again.

_Swoosh_

"Aran."

_Swoosh_

"ARAN."

_Swoosh_

"STOP IT."

_Swoosh_

"It's not like you to keep dodging, _ushiki_," Aran taunted. "C'mon, hit me."

And he did (Oh, the irony of life!). He swung his war scythe, cutting her thigh. At least it wasn't a deep wound. "Now I don't have to hold back," she growled.

She channeled mana to her feet, using the skill Combat Step to quickly cover the distance between her and Samus. In this time, Samus' polearm glowed blue. Polearm Booster. Using buffs already, heh?

Aran swung her glaive in quick succession while Samus blocked; each blow pushed him back a few feet. Each time her attack connected, Aran felt the runes in her glaive generate mana. She collected this mana at the tip of her glaive. As soon as it was enough, she released the energy, pushing it forward as hard as she could towards Samus, who was now out of reach. The energy formed a bullet, crashing into Samus' chest. Combo Smash. (A/N: this is how to combo system works – with runes. Stuff that need triple swing to perform, eg, Final Charge, rely directly on mana)

She casted as many buffs on herself as possible. Snow Charge, Polearm Booster-

She ducked as Samus swung his war scythe. In this position, Samus kicked Aran backwards, sending her in range of his swinging arc again. Aran tried to ready her glaive, but was too stunned to move. Dammit, he casted Body Pressure on himself.

Samus held the sharp tip of his war scythe at his sister's neck. "Your move, _ashiki_."

Aran smirked. "With pleasure." She buried her feet into Samus' torso, pushing as much mana energy as she could muster towards the soles of her feet. Before Samus could process what she was doing, Aran expelled the energy in a straight line, pushing Samus 20 feet into the air. Combat Step was useful in more ways than one.

Samus quickly wiped the shocked expression from his face, his skin glowing blue as he casted buffs onto himself. He twisted around and landed perfectly on his feet. He frowned. "Fine then," he said. "If you want to play that way…"

He charged. Aran jumped to avoid a blow directed at her feet, but that was a _big_ mistake. Samus brought his war scythe in a full circle, channeling mana outwards as he swung round and around. The mana formed a mini tornado, hitting Aran again and again. Rolling Spin. Aran screamed in pain. The blows were keeping her in the air. Finally, Samus stomped his right foot downward, channeling mana through the ground to where Aran was. Ice spikes shot upwards, following the arc of Samus' swing, both hitting Aran square in the back. Final Toss.

A bruised, bleeding Aran struggled to her feet. Samus responded by focusing mana at the snow around Aran's feet, causing them to solidify into ice, trapping Aran. Freeze standing. He didn't want to hurt her any more than he did. "You done?" he asked.

Aran hung her head low. Bitter tears coursed down her cheeks. She couldn't let him win. She had to find that lyka. It killed _upa, _for crying out loud! She had to get revenge; if not for _upa_, then for herself. She had to win.

She _had_ to win.

Could she do it?

…

What kind of question was that? Aran smirked.

The air around her erupted in light. She felt renewed mana course through her body like electricity, healing her broken rib and other wounds. She felt completely energized. Looks like she's level 69 now.

The ice around her feet had crumbled away. It seemed like a fair fight now; Aran was still at full health while Samus had already taken a beating. She charged at him, determination returning with her health. Samus barely had time to block.

Hit. Block. Hit. Block. Hit. Block. Hit. Block. Hit. Block. Hit. Block. Hit. Block. Hit. Block. Hit. Block.

It became a systematic melody. Again and again she swung. Samus' grip was weakening ever so slightly. She could win. All going according to plan.

She Combat Step-ed backwards, putting some distance between her and Samus, breaking apart their little dance. Samus buffed himself again, trying to regain his strength. Then he charged, taking the first opportunity to attack.

He swung his war scythe downwards… and was replaced by a huge bear. At least 10 feet tall, it was made of light – mana energy to be exact. And it could do a hell lot of damage. Final Blow.

Aran cursed as she was knocked back. Samus was invulnerable as long as the mana-bear-thing was active. She had to work fast; the energy accumulated from the runes would disperse after several seconds. Fortunately, Samus didn't have much mana to hold the bear form for long, but he did leave his mark on Aran. He managed to break her rib. Again.

It's now or never. Aran released the energy as soon as the bear dematerialized. The energy swirled around her, forming a pack of wolves. Combo Fenrir. The wolves were different from the bear; made of runic magic instead of mana energy (A/N: I will explain in future chapters…). This meant they were more powerful, and took less energy to control. Aran smirked as the wolves stampeded to Samus.

He had been ready for it, using his war scythe to split the wolves apart, so he barely took any damage. What he hadn't been ready for was Aran charging in _with_ the wolves. She was completely hidden in the flurry of light, that Samus didn't notice her until she was standing on his chest, weapon poised at his neck. A perfect reverse in roles. This time, though, Samus couldn't escape; Aran had pinned his legs to the ground. His war scythe clattered uselessly beside him, out of his reach.

"I win," Aran panted, smirking despite the pain. Samus grunted.

She released him, and started walking back into the woods.

"Where are you going?" Samus grunted, pushing himself up.

"I'm going to find the lyka," Aran replied eloquently.

"You know, were never made such an agreement."

Aran turned to face her brother. "You're not letting me go, are you?" Samus shook his head slowly. "So when do you plan to? I'm seventeen already," Aran said, losing her temper, but was restraining herself. "I'm definitely going to leave the tribe some day. So why not now? Why do you find the need to keep me here?"

Samus couldn't answer. It wasn't because he _didn't want_ to let her go, but because he _couldn't_. "Aran…. I can't," he said solemnly.

Aran huffed in frustration. She seemed to be hesitant with what she was about to say, but her tone was steady. "Fine then," She untied her cape, letting it fall to the ground. "I revoke my name as a Daughter of Reenu."

Samus stared at her, dumbfounded. "Aran… You can't be serious," he gasped. The cape was that bearing the tribal seal; letting it fall that way was one of the worst offences.

Aran nodded, bent on her decision. "And now, I am a Forbidden, so you can't keep me here."

"Goodbye, _ushiki_," Aran said, continuing her journey to who-knows-where, before he could interrupt her.

Samus saw his sister smile genuinely for the first time in years, only to have her disappear into the trees.

* * *

For the next two days and two nights, Aran ran through the woods, fueled by the thoughts of pulverizing the lyka. There were little signs here and there, informing here where to go; scratches on the trees, depressions in the snow. Aran was trained to track animals like this by her brother; she needed this skill more than ever now. She felt that she was getting closer, and it only empowered her resolve.

One the morning of the third day, Aran was stalking a snow rabbit for breakfast. She hid behind a red-berry bush, its branches bursting with the colorful fruit. She could barely make out the furry white figure in the snow-covered area, but its chattering gave it away. It squeaked nervously every step it took, eyes darting around for the predator lurking in the darkness.

Aran peered from behind the shrub. The creature had its back turned towards her; it was the perfect time to strike. And she was about to, before being rudely interrupted by something large and heavy-

Turns out a lyka had jumped on the rabbit before Aran had a chance to. A lyka with one eye…

Aran grinned menacingly. She had found it! And she still had the upper hand; the lyka had yet to spot her. She waited and watched the lyka gorge and maul its prey bloody, just like it did the _sameru_'swolves…

Aran shook her head, getting rid of the cold feeling at the base of her stomach. She can't get feeling all scared _now_, she was so close. So close to revenge… Revenge for her father.

She let the rage build up inside her. This monster was the one that destroyed everything: Her parents, her family, her village, _everything _she had. Runes on her glaive glowed red from the sudden discharge of energy. Angry tears leaked from the corner of her eyes as her mind replayed the scene over and over again, taunting her, mocking her. There was nothing she could do then.

But there was everything she could do now. She charged.

The lyka _still_ hadn't noticed her, too busy savoring its prize – rabbit meat _was_ known for its tenderness and unique flavour. It also helped that the she was on the lyka's left side, so its blind eye was facing her.

Aran leapt into the air, and bashed her glaive into the lyka's forehead, shouting loudly in determination as she did. A completely useless move, seeing that the lyka's skull was harder than solid rock. Then she released Combo Smash, firing the strangely red energy straight into the lyka's head at point blank range. The world flashed white.

* * *

Aran realized that she was now seeing things from the lyka's point of view. Since Aran had contact with the lyka as she expelled the runic energy, it seemed that her somewhat _fused_ with the lyka as the energy melted its brain. Something along those lines.

Aran was also aware of the splitting pain in her head. It felt like someone had smashed her skull open and was stirring her brain with a mace. She clutched her head groaning in agony, and closed her eyes concentrating to make the pain go away. Instead, a vision started playing behind her eyelids.

* * *

The lyka lumbered through the forest, winding its bulky body through the trees. It was travelling in a seemingly random directions; Aran had no idea where it was planning to go. But the lyka still walked on very steadily and surely.

After a seemingly endless time, the lyka/Aran reached a large clearing in the woods. It… She… Fine, _they_ stood on top of a small hill overlooking the clearing, crouching low to avoid being seen. In the field were a pack of hectors and white fangs, mingling around and doing whatever wolves do. Reenian wolves were actually evolved from white fangs - tamed and strengthened with ancient Nethian runes – so Aran recognized the breed right away.

There were an absurd number of wolves, at least five or six dozen. Aran had never seen this many monsters in one place before. Then the lyka did something that would be considered extremely stupid – it charged right into the middle of the pack. The sea of hectors and white fangs parted as they walked through, albeit snarling and growling.

The lyka stopped in front of a white fang that was slightly larger than the others. Numerous scars mottled its skin, and its canines were about 5 inches long, proving its age and status among the wolf pack.

The lyka growled a deep, guttural grunt. The pack leader responded with a short howl. Unfortunately, Aran was unskilled in the animals' language and could not understand the exchange. Apparently, the wolves had angered the lyka some way or the other.

Aran felt the lyka's anger; the hot red, steely burning sensation rising in her body. The lyka had delved into its mana soul, channeling energy outwards. The wolves backed away, feeling the same way as Aran; fearful. Aran knew this skill all too well. After seeing it in action, she had researched all she could about it in case she was to encounter it again. She wasn't expecting to witness it this way, though. Fire Pillar; the skill that killed her father.

The wolves didn't stand a chance; wiped out before they could even register what was happening. A ten foot wide crater was left behind, as if the lyka was marking its territory. As soon as the fire died down, the lyka pounced on the wolves that were still alive. Aran was surprised it had the energy to do so, considering that using the same move in her village drained it completely.

The lyka killed as many wolves as it could catch. Without a leader, the pack was in chaos. Aran found herself both appalled and fascinated by the events that transpired. The lyka killed with vigor and violence, almost carelessly slaughtering the entire pack. Aran felt absolutely terrified; a chill ran down her spine as she remembered the wrath it rained on her tribe. Compared to this, the lyka had merely sauntered through her little camp. Here, right now, was hell. She shuddered to think what would have happened if the lyka was this strong when it attacked the Reenian tribe.

She felt the bloodlust of the lyka, the venom creeping through her veil of emotions despite her terror-stricken state. It pricked at her mind the more she witnessed the carnage; the bloody roar of the lyka was hypnotizing. She watched, somewhat dazed, as the lyka mauled and tore the skin clean off the body of a hector, its sharp horns glistening in red blood. The wolves fought tooth and claw, though it did little against the tough hide of the lyka. Its gigantic hooves easily crushed the wolves, its strong tail knocking them aside like flies. The entire battlefield was stained a deep burgundy, the pure white snow contaminated with the blood of a colony. The lyka wasn't even bothered by the lives it was taking.

Even as a human being, even as a _warrior_ – one who purges the land from evil monsters – the sight was simply ruthless; the lyka had been a heartless, cold-blooded monster. Aran wondered what the wolves could have done to deserve such punishment. The lyka looked around the bloodied field one more time and, content with the number of carcasses strewn across the plain, walked away, not even taking a glimpse back.

* * *

After the completely one-sided war, Aran witnessed another aspect of the lyka that she wouldn't have believed had she not seen it with her own eyes, err… mind (?). Apparently, the lyka was a romantic.

All animals had their own mating system. In most cases, the male has to woo the female of his choice. Then the female chooses her mate based on the most spectacular performance of the males. Despite their violent nature, lykas, like other animals, had the same rituals. Cows choose the strongest lyka as their mate. To prove their strength, the lykas who wish to court the female will fight; the winner gets the girl.

This particular lyka, whom which Aran was 'bonded' to, already had a mate. Aran had never really seen the minor gender of this species in the wild before, considering that it was much more docile that its male counterpart and hated to fight. Cows are shy and usually run away at the first sign of danger. It looked pretty much the same as a male lyka, except that it was about half its size and lacked the threatening aura of a male. The cow didn't have the large, magical horns either, which a lyka uses as something like an antenna to channel mana energy through.

Aran felt the pride and joy of the lyka (it hardly differed from the feeling of bloodlust, though this time it was in more of a positive light) as it gazed upon his mate. It was lying down underneath a large fir tree. The cow was unusually large with a swelling belly. Amazingly, it was pregnant. The lyka nudged the cow and grunted, before walking away from the small clearing.

As the lyka hunted for something to eat, Aran's mind was reeling. '_The lyka had a lover…'_ was her first thought. She dug deeper into the lyka's memories, trying to 'remember' the lyka's life. It felt incredibly weird, as she was conscious about the lyka's actions (It was currently hunting down a waddle of pepes) while at the same time using the lyka's mind to recall something, while at the same time again controlling her own mind.

The lyka did not really experience a feeling similar to love with the cow, but Aran found the lyka's happiness. '_Monsters can feel happiness…'_ was her second revelation. She immediately thought about all the monsters she had killed 'for fun'.

The lyka, like other animals seeking mates, had worked extremely hard for his partner. Aran was curiously surprised when she felt infatuation in the lyka's deeper memories, before it had contested for the hand, or hoof, of the cow. She felt the determination of the lyka (the feeling was still scarily similar to bloodlust) as it trained to gain levels and grow stronger.

A sharp cry broke Aran's concentration and reverted her attention back to the lyka's present time. It was a strangled, pitiable yelp that sent the lyka's nerves into overdrive. It abandoned the pepe in its jaws and ran straight back into the trees towards the cow. It literally ran straight back, shouldering away the trees in front of it.

Aran's third and most important revelation came when they reached the clearing. The cow was gone. Blood stained the ground. It was obvious whose blood it was, seeing that the cow couldn't attack.

The cow had defended itself, though. Several broken spears littered the ground. Aran noticed that the spearheads were branded with runes. Reenian runes.

Suddenly, everything made sense to Aran. '_The cow was killed… by my people…'_ That was why it had attacked. That was why it killed the _sameru_. That was why it had left so _peacefully _afterwards.

The lyka screamed.

Aran knew what happened after that.

* * *

Suddenly : Darkness.

Pretty much the easiest way to describe it.

Aran was falling down into a pit of absolute darkness. She felt the g-force tugging at her stomach, pulling it into her throat. She felt the wind blowing in her face as she fell down, down, and deeper down some more. She wasn't scared though.

Warriors had to know no fear. Now, out of the lyka's territory, she was in control of her body again. She twisted her body and braced for impact on an invisible ground.

And crashed face-first into a mound of snow.

She got up brushing the cold powder off her armor with her hands. _Human_ hands. She breathed a sigh of relief and tested out her limbs, fingers, toes. Everything seemed to be working fine after that strange ordeal.

Then she noticed the smell of smoke. She swept her eyes around the area and found a smoldering pile of ashes on the ground behind her, the heat melting the snow surrounding it.

She was still in the clearing; the trees were still the same towering conifers, the same red-berry shrub which she had hid behind, even the remains of the snow rabbit were still smeared on the ground. Judging by the position of the sun, not much time had passed. The only difference was that the lyka was replaced by the lyka-sized pile of ashes.

Had she somehow burned it up? It was very unlikely; Aran had no experience whatsoever with elemental magic, especially fire. Being of the Reenu tribe, Aran was marked with runes that strengthened ice attacks. However, these runes dampened fire-based skills because of polar opposition laws. Only a mage specialized in fire should be able to create a flame big and hot enough to incinerate a being such as the lyka to dust.

Then again, there was that strange red tint her mana had took on. "_Ciira," _she muttered experimentally, calling forth the ice element for her mana soul. A ball of frosty blue light was summoned onto the palm of her hand. At least the color of her mana had returned to normal.

Now that her concerns were cleared up, she returned her attention towards the lyka. Or rather, what was left of the lyka. Did she feel sorry for killing it? She had mixed emotions about that. One part of her was satisfied, the savage thirst for revenge quenched. Another part of her thought about the memories of the lyka, and felt somewhat guilty.

The lyka had wanted to show her its thoughts. It had never attacked her. From her younger self, who pelted rocks at it, to her current self, who had threatened it, the lyka had never attacked her. She wanted to ask it _'Why?_', but it was a little too late for that.

"Now what?" Aran thought aloud. She hadn't really thought about her plan too far ahead. She was now exiled from her tribe. She had fulfilled her promise to herself. _Now what?_

As if the gods were answering her question, she heard a twig snap somewhere behind her. Ignoring the complete sense of déjà vu, she brought her glaive around and planted the tip into something that yelped. As blood bloomed to the ground, Aran inspected her kill. The hector had definitely been stalking her, judging by the paw prints in the snow. But hectors normally hunt in packs of five or six…

She turned around just in time to jam the butt of her glaive into the mouth of another hector; its jaws open wide, teeth gleaming menacingly. The hector whined, its blood dripping from its mouth, as two more hectors emerged from the trees, snarling and growling. Aran braced herself for an attack. She could do this. She'd fought off plenty of wolf packs on her own before.

Just as she charged, she was knocked flat onto her stomach by a fourth hector, which had hidden behind her. She twisted onto her back, trying to use her weapon against it, but the hector had clamped its jaws on the shaft of the blade. Aran uselessly attempted to wrestle the glaive away from the hector, but to no avail. The other wolves were closing in.

Amidst the growling of the hectors, Aran heard a faint _thump-thump_ sound, as if something was galloping in the snowy grounds. That gave way to a somewhat familiar howl, as a white blur burst from the trees, knocking over the line of hectors.

The hector standing on top of Aran was just as surprised as she was, but Aran recovered faster. She took the opportunity to wrench the glaive from the hector's grip, pulling it off of her body at the same time. She kicked the wolf back and swung her glaive down, severing its head clean of the hector's furry body. Aran's subconscious reminded her about the lyka's wolf massacre, but there was no time to think about it now. She dismissed the thought, preferring to keep herself alive rather than keeping the wolves alive.

As soon as the hector was dead, Aran felt a surge of energy channeled through her weapon. A bright light engulfed her, leaving her rejuvenated from the previous battles. She'd achieved level-70.

She turned to face the other three hectors, but they were already in a bloodied, mangled heap, killed by a white wolf bearing a red rune on its forehead.

"Melica?" Aran questioned. She was surprised to see her brother's partner all the way out here. She must have followed Aran. Melica the wolf barked happily, jumping up on her hind legs and leaning her front paws on Aran's shoulders. Aran laughed nervously, unsure of whether to be happy or sad that Samus was on her heels.

"What are you doing here?" Aran asked. The wolf replied with a few short barks. Aran grimaced. "Is Samus following us?" she asked again, to which the wolf let out a low howl. Aran let out a sigh of relief. "So you came on your own?" Melica the wolf let out a low howl again, which left Aran with a puzzled expression. "Samus sent you to accompany me?" Aran hedged. Melica barked happily.

"So you're my partner now, huh…" Aran smiled. It was nice to know that her brother still cared about her, especially after what she'd done. "You're _sure_ Samus isn't coming after me, right?" she asked to wolf. Melica shook her head.

Aran sighed. Unfortunately, now she was back at the same question. "_Now _what?" she said aloud. Melica pawed her glaive. "I guess I could get my 3rd job advancement now that I'm level-70…" Aran chuckled. To think that one week ago she was running around doing errands for the tribesmen.

"Well then, let's go Melica. El Nath is still about a couple days trek," Aran said, suddenly full of vigor and enthusiasm. Melica cheerfully trotted along. Together, warrior and wolf, they continued their journey towards the setting sun.

Aran felt happy for the first time in a long time.

* * *

The Mapler's eyes flew open. A memory... The Warrior's memory was stored inside the locket. This was the warrior that fought the Black Mage.

He examined the book. The _Warrior_ locket pulsed brightly with mana. The rune was glowing a bright orange, the gold looked brand new. Now, on the spine of the book, there was an image of a key that was only one fifth formed.

The Mapler placed the book back into the box. It was a long trek back to his base, though he'd rather unlock the book in a safer place than the cave, were monsters lurked all around.

At least now, he knew what to do.

* * *

-{Author's Note}-

* * *

Someone followed my story! HI CJWRITES AND SPIDA-DWAG16! THIS IS AWESOME!

It's done! It's done! It's done! OMG that took so long… Sorry for the wait.

I apologize if the story sucks now (it honestly sounded better in my head…). I'll try even harder to make it sound good. Please tell me how I can improve… Do I have to get down on my knees to beg for reviews? I appreciate any comments you have about my fanfic, good or bad. (I'm working very hard to make it _not_ bad, but I sorta need your help too. Hehe…)

I made a mistake in the prologue… It's actually spelled "Rhinne", not "Rinne", but I have absolutely no idea how to edit it… Sorry!

Samus is the unused male Aran. I'm basing him off his post-chaos design. So sue me for the innuendo. I couldn't think of a better name. Anyway, it fits, doesn't it?

To those of you who don't play Maplestory but insist on reading this, *cough* TrollCheshire *cough*, Google 'Maplestory [Insert name of thing that isn't in the English Language]". ( TrollCheshire: when are you gonna download Maplestory?...)

Well, yeah. That's chapter 1. I really hope you enjoyed reading it. Thanks if you did!

-Tayuke

p.s. Nethian Language Translations:

U- prefix : Used to represent masculinity

-Ushiki – brother

-Uwanya – son

-Upa - father

A- prefix : Used to represent femininity

-Ashiki – sister

-Awanya – daughter

-Ama – mother

The I- prefix is used as a general term

-Ishiki - sibling

-Iwanya - child

Sameru- men in the tribe who have already passed manhood

Samer- strong/courageous

Ranumi- snow

Ustune- wolf (it's pronounced in 3 syllables… I know it's weird, sounded better in my head)

Yllr- Seasonal God of Winter storms. Derived from Ullr

Foriph - God of fortune

Reenu - name of Aran's tribe (hint, hint!)


End file.
